by Theodora Thoreau-Roosevelt, Professional Window Washer and Amateur Naturalist
ENTRY 59: Neal Henderson
What courage! What daring! What kind nobleness of spirit! If ever a man exemplified the ideals of…
I apologize. That was…inappropriate of me. This journal is meant to be an objective, scientific record of the natural world, not some simpering school girl’s love letter. Stupid, silly Dora.
Let me explain. My mistaken raccoon finally awoke after three days. His name, as it turns out, is Neal Henderson. By his dress and smell, I had already to deduced he was a putrescible waste collector. And by the accounts I am about to relate, he is as strong of will and hardy of constitution as members of his profession are reputed to be.
When I inquired as to how he came to be outside, he informed me that he had jumped from the tower in order to retrieve his shovel, which he designated Betsey. This is an understandable, natural behavior as tool use is one of the most innate characteristics of personkind.
Were this all he had done, it would have been impressive, but he also survived for days without proper attire, bested a raccoon in single combat, and met an ANTPERSON! I had always thought ants were just a myth, but as Mr. Henderson isso forthright of character, I must now entertain the possibility. And the possibility excites me!
Were that the end of his tale, it would only have been amazing, but Mr. Henderson is on a quest to rescue his lady love from unseen, diabolical forces. Seeking out and defending one’s potential mate to safeguard one’s future procreative rights: is there anything more romantic?
Were there no more to Mr. Henderson’s character, he would be no less than legendary, however right at the end of our encounter, he proved himself to be an unparalleled specimen of honor and generosity when he presented me…with…a…clover.
Please excuse the smudges of ink where my joyful tears have ruined the text. I believe I’m alright to continue. The clover, a three leafed member of the legume family, is the first above ground plant I have come across after Alan, my tree. Indeed were the root structure intact, I would replant it so Alan could have a bit of company. But I am being ungrateful. Even as is, this clover is unequivocal proof of the power and abundance of life!
I shall preserve the clover here, within these pages. I wish Mr. Henderson success in his most noble quest and ardently hope that our paths may someday cross again